We don’t want a Morrison-Andrews tango — we need lives saved
Here is a not so bold prediction: there is not a single person alive today who will be around when the last cent of the national debt, expected to grow to more than $1 trillion, is paid off. There is not a politician today, or an established political party, with the desire, the will or the intent to tackle the Everest of debt that the Morrison government has amassed in the blink of an eye. Voters don’t care and the politicians won’t dare.
A budget surplus may reappear, perhaps in the next decade, probably as a fluky one-off from the magic pudding of growth, although you would be mad to bet on it. Since the global financial crisis 12 years ago, there have been six prime ministers and four treasurers presiding over mostly relatively benign economic conditions. Not one has produced a surplus. They talked about it endlessly, promised it repeatedly, even twice pretended they had delivered it when they hadn’t, so there is nothing to suggest that at any time this century or beyond there will be a string of solid surpluses, enough to make even the smallest dent on the debt.
The few remaining surplus fetishists will shed tears, but they will soon disappear. The fetishists, that is. Debt addicts and nanny-staters rule. That’s OK because it will not be our problem, not for any of us, not even if advances in medical science are such that 120th birthday celebrations become ho-hum.
The prospect of a leader emerging with the stomach to do what is needed, when even this crisis has failed to ignite debate or action on changes necessary to restore or maintain economic and physical health, is impossible to imagine.
Scott Morrison says when it comes to reform nothing is off the table, yet on Monday the Prime Minister gave the impression he was waiting for the states to reach a consensus before he decided which way to go on tax reform.
That was the same day he urged people to be patient, seemingly waiting for Daniel Andrews to get a grip on the COVID-19 outbreak he calls the Victorian wave. His plea came as the Victorian Premier announced a record 532 new cases, with about 700 aged-care residents and staff infected.
Instead of stepping up, Morrison appeared to be keeping his distance. Literally. He flew to Queensland for a spot of campaigning. The prime minister was slow to recognise that ultimately responsibility for resolving the crisis rested with him, not only because the federal government is responsible for aged care.
According to the Victorians, they had asked for help with nursing homes more than a fortnight ago because they could see what was coming, yet the feds were slow to respond. These facilities struggle in normal times to care for residents. Everyone knew from the beginning of the pandemic they were highly vulnerable.
On Tuesday when federal Health Minister Greg Hunt wasn’t firing back at Andrews, he was still talking about swinging expert medical teams into action. On Wednesday, Morrison said it would happen on Thursday. It should have happened weeks ago.
The feds were acting like bystanders, not wanting to own the problem, content to have the states shoulder responsibility. And cop the flak. The gravity of the situation and the potential damage it could inflict on him and his government finally registered when Morrison cut short his trip to the deep north on Tuesday to fly back to Canberra, although his analogy to describe the spread into aged care, “when it rains everyone gets wet”, was hardly empathetic.
Given their much vaunted special relationship, Morrison could have said to Andrews weeks ago, around July 4, the first day since late March that the number of cases in Victoria went from double to triple digits: “Listen, mate. Whatever you are doing is not working. We won’t take over but the best thing for you, for me, for Victorians and the rest of the country is for us to swamp the place with troops and healthcare workers to smash this thing. If we don’t we are all in trouble.”
Instead we have witnessed a passive mutual non-aggression pact. One would not criticise the other. Morrison offered to give whatever support was required. Andrews praised him for providing whatever he requested. They are more frank with one another privately, mainly via text messages, and obviously a public brawl about who is to blame for what has gone wrong helps nobody.
However it turns out, the carefully choreographed public performances were a bit like two men doing the tango. Too much spinning and sliding. Andrews should have asked for more help and insisted it come quickly. Morrison should have offered more help sooner and insisted it be accepted.
Help dribbled in. Victoria’s reluctance to have defence forces from the outset was incredibly costly considering everything has flowed from the failure of hotel quarantine — the measure that saved so many lives and that Andrews himself had proposed for all incoming travellers that the national cabinet adopted.
When personnel finally arrived in Victoria, they reported back to Canberra on the chaos and dysfunction, at which point someone should have hit the panic button.
The Victorians insist they did not need more defence cadets looking after logistics. What they desperately needed, what they say they did not get and had asked for, was experienced medical help.
Belatedly, at the weekend the feds set up an emergency response team to help aged-care homes overwhelmed by the virus, then by the anger, confusion, heartbreak and grief that accompanied each death. A friend’s family received a call late last week, after the feds had stepped in, to tell them their mother, a resident of St Basil’s, was about to die from the virus. They were told only one of them — in a hazmat suit — could visit her.
While they were trying to work out which one would go, they got another call to say sorry, they had called the wrong family, it was not their mother who was dying. Their relief did not last long. Just 36 hours later there was another call to say their mother had died from COVID-19.
After Morrison finally snapped back on Tuesday, Andrews pointedly emphasised the federal government’s responsibility for nursing homes. Without a hint of irony, Andrews said he was happy to provide whatever assistance he could to help handle the outbreaks, and by the way, he wouldn’t even think of putting his mother in one of them. Slaps delivered, the tango resumed, because it takes two and, as they keep saying, we — and they — are in it together.